


The Fall of Atlantis

by 11JJ11



Series: My Miracle Box [2]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Ancient Greece, Atlantis, Heroes to Villains, Implied death with the sinking of Atlantis, Kwami & Miraculous Lore, Past Cat Miraculous Holders, Past Ladybug Miraculous Holders, Past Miraculous Holders, Sinking of Atlantis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:00:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26168296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/11JJ11/pseuds/11JJ11
Summary: When it came to the sinking of Atlantis, humans blamed Plagg, Destruction himself. But the kwamis remember that another of their kind had been lurking in the shadows.
Series: My Miracle Box [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1878256
Comments: 12
Kudos: 19





	The Fall of Atlantis

**Author's Note:**

> _*Reads that Plato said that Atlantis sank over 9000 years before his time.*_
> 
> _*Ignores that and decides that it was around the ancient Greece era and that humans just messed up their history somehow.*_

Attlantis was silent as he came flying out of the scarf, the transformation falling away as his chosen slipped into their home, a small little place. The human stretched, looking quite satisfied with himself. His kwami watched him wordlessly, his skin darkening to a deep blue as he regarded his human.

“This is not what my powers are to be used for, Calix,” he finally stated.

Calix threw the Octopus an unimpressed look. “Were you not the one that told me to use this Miraculous to choose my destiny?”

“Yes,” Attlantis said. “That does not mean you made the right Choice. I placed this power in your hands in the hope that you would help this land progress. Instead you have crowned yourself a god.”

He had sought out someone from humble origins in hopes that they would be humble themselves. He realized he had chosen incorrectly far too late– Calix donning the name of ‘Poseidon’ when transformed, and with the power he held many had come to believe that was who he was. Gifts and offerings had been presented to him, the fine trinkets lining the shelf of his small home, and all looked to him in awe. 

He now had children on the way, conceived under false pretenses and a name that was not his.

Attlantis had watched this island be built and prosper; he and his holders had been among the first to arrive on this land, and it had even been named in his honor. The people that had lived then had been ones he had been proud of, those who had been worthy of the powers they were granted and the titles they gained– but that generation had only lasted for a moment in time. He had watched their descendants fall into greed, the Miraculouses in their possession. 

As soon as Attlantis had been given the Choice to leave, he had.

He had taken his scarf and fled to the farthest corners of the island, watching as humans fought against one another, brother turning against brother– it was a sight he had dreaded to see. He did not understand, he and the others had been so careful with who they had brought to this land, and how their children had been raised– yet it seemed no matter what people they lived among, they fell into their selfish ways in just a couple of generations. This land had been meant to be a utopia, but it had become anything but that.

When Attlantis first found Calix he had been a quiet human, scavenging what he could for his family who lived off of the scraps of society. He had not been a grand leader like his past holders, but the small choices he made demonstrated greater morals than the momentous decisions the current rulers crafted.

Miraculouses granted power, power created influence– and the kwami had hoped that with his power Calix would be able to guide this island back towards the glory it had once held.

He had never imagined that Calix would turn into the very type of human he had fled from. One that chose to lie– not to protect and serve, but for his own selfish gain. One that drank the power that had fallen into his hands, and who had left the family he had cared for so diligently, to prosper on his own.

Attlantis could not understand– were all humans fated to the same destiny? Was corruption rooted in their beings?

The Octopus ate his meal in silence as Calix sat down to feast on the harvest he had been given today. Attlantis did not care that he was only given the scraps, he only thought for the younger sisters Calix had once fed, would they have been a better choice for the scarf that sat around his holder’s neck? Or would have they fallen to the same fate as their brother?

Calix fell upon his cot, lavished with fine fabrics and plush pillows that did not match the small shack they rested in. The kwami hovered above him, skin fading to a paler teal as he watched his holder, who said nothing to him as he fell asleep. When had he gone from companion to merely a tool? Were humans truly unable to see beyond themselves?

As soon as his breathing slowed and his snores became loud, and Attlantis swooped down, carefully reaching for the scarf around his neck. It shimmered as it was pulled from the human, turning into a shimmering material, an iridescence of blues and greens. The only reaction Calix gave to losing the Miraculous was a slight twitch in his sleep, twisting over to his side as he slept on. Calix had chosen not to give Attlantis any orders against taking the Miraculous– and so the kwami was glad to take it from someone as unworthy as him. He had given the human many chances, and none of them he had taken.

Attlantis stared down at Calix for a moment longer– leaving a holder was usually a time of grieving for a kwami, having grown close to the humans they could only know for such a short amount of time– but right now he felt nothing. It had been the same after his last holder, and the few before them. The last time he had felt anything had been generations ago.

What had humans become?

He slipped out through the door and into the cool night, the smell of earth and the sea rippling around him. He could search the island for a new holder... but Calix had been his last hope. He now knew that no one here would be worthy of wielding his power. As for his fellow kwamis that lived here... he was sure their powers should not be in the hands of humans either.

Attlantis made his decision in that moment– and he knew it was not a simple Choice. But with the mistakes he had already made and the darkness that was clouding the humans’ hearts he was certain that this would not be one he would regret. Others might though, and considering he could not do this alone... he would have to choose his words carefully.

There were several that could help him– Tonna’s powers would be best, but she lived on the other side of the world, and the time it would take him would allow for the corruption here to spread further. Nokk’s powers would be sufficient as well, and much closer, but there was one other kwami who was even nearer who could complete the task. The Alphas carried great force– but it was that power that he needed.

So Attlantis set off across the ocean, tentacles holding tightly to his scarf, heading towards Greece.

* * *

Though Creation and Destruction’s current wielders were not associated together, but it wasn’t unsurprising to find Perses and Paschalítsa so close to the other. Attlantis was hoping that Paschalítsa wouldn’t be close at the moment, perhaps near the Black Sea as he heard she often was. But Creation and Destruction went hand in hand, even if their current holders had little to do with each other.

“Kwami,” Perses said when he saw Attlantis approaching, stiffening up slightly. Paschalítsa raised her head, staring at him with an uninterested gaze. He wasn’t sure if he had intruded on a meeting or not, but he saw no reason to linger in the window. Human affairs were limited in their relevance.

“Greetings, Creation and Destruction,” Attlantis said, bowing his head somewhat, tentacle over his chest– the titles and gestures were beyond what he felt they deserved, but he needed their favor. The tentacles on his back held tightly to his Miraculous, not wanting it to fall into the hands of a human once more. “I am Attlantis, the kwami of Choice. I have come to seek a favor from Plagg.”

Paschalítsa stretched. “That’s yours, right? So can I leave now, or...?”

Perses sighed. “We still have much to discuss, Hippolyta. We shall continue after we speak to this kwami.” He turned his attention towards Attlantis. “I am not familiar with you, I am afraid. I am Perses, wielder of Destruction. Who is your wielder, and why have you come?”

“I have no wielder,” he said simply, and he felt a strange thrill at that thought. He had no holder, and he was not bound to a Miracle Box– what path he took from here was his choice and his alone. “I come from Atlantis, which was named in my honor, but the people there no longer treat the island with such. They have abused my powers, and the other kwamis which reside there. I have come to seek Destruction’s assistance.”

Perses looked alarmed. “Is there not a Guardian in the area for you to contact?”

Attlantis’ expression remained neutral, he had not gone to one for many reasons. They would simply remove his Miraculous and the others on the island, but the people and their corruption would still remain. There were other sources of powers they could seek– but a Guardian was not an option. His grip on his scarf tightened, pulling away from the humans.

“That was not an option,” he said simply. “I need to speak to Plagg.”

“Very well,” Perses said. “Plagg, claws in.”

The black ring on his finger gleamed, his transformation falling away as the kwami of Destruction came flying out from it, paws crossed. He hovered upside down in front of his holder for a moment, staring at him.

“Cheese, Petros,” Plagg finally said. Petros sighed, before pulling out a piece of feta, which the kwami swooped down and ate in a single bite, before turning towards the Octopus. “Attlantis,” he said, sounding surprised. “Haven’t seen you in a few centuries. What’s going on?”

“The people of Atlantis are planning a siege against this land,” Attlantis said, the lie flowing off his tongue with ease. “Their numbers and weaponry are great, and they will be using our brethren as well. I barely managed to escape, but something must be done.”

Plagg’s holder, Petros, looked up with wide eyes. “Why did you not alert us to this the moment you came here, Kwami? This is no small matter– we must alert others right away. Hippolyta, you should gather your sisters, I will alert our Guardian–”

“No.” Attlantis said. “The innocent people of this land would be slain if there was such a battle, we must stop this before it can begin, which is why I seek Plagg’s assistance.” He took in a deep breath, not knowing how his request would be received. “I believe our best course of action would be to eliminate the problem– rid them of their navy and vessels, and they cannot cross the oceans to this land. That will give us plenty of time to prepare.”

Paschalítsa raised her head, now looking interested. “Destroying a whole fleet? I like the way you think, little kwami.”

Plagg crossed his paws. “There’s a reason why you got Tikki and not me, Paschalítsa.” He turned to Attlantis, head tilted slightly. “When you say you want my help, you mean my abilities without a holder?”

“If it is a lack of control you fear, I can help you,” Attlantis said, holding out a paw. “I can help rein in your abilities with what you choose to destroy, but we simply do not have time to wait for your holder to cross the sea to guide your Cataclysm. We need to leave now.”

Plagg turned to Petros. “Well kid, what do you say?”

“Me?” Petros said, looking slightly surprised.

“You’re wearing the ring, kid. I’m not leaving you unless you are okay with it.”

Attlantis’ tentacles tightened on his Miraculous. One of the most powerful beings in this universe, and he left his fate in the hands of one who would be gone in the blink of an eye? Perhaps for the ones who had proven themselves, but he was beginning to see that was quite rare to find among mankind.

“Of course, Plagg,” Petros said. “We swore to protect this land, and if this is the best way to do so then we will do so.”

Paschalítsa raised an eyebrow. “So, are you going to say you need Tikki next too or something? How do we not know this is a trick to strip us powerless and leave us vulnerable to attack?”

“I am not here to drag Creation away from you,” Attlantis said.

Plagg flipped upside down. “He has his Miraculouses with him– that means no one ordered him to do this. Nothing not to trust.”

“Just like that?”

“Unlike you humans,” Plagg said. “We kwamis don’t turn against each other.”

“Shall we go?” Attlantis said, not wanting to waste their time with these humans. He held out a paw. “I can help hide us to avoid detection.”

Plagg replied by flying over to him, placing his paw into his.

“Cloak,” Attlantis whispered softly, waves of rippling energy spreading across them. Within moments he and Plagg’s colors had morphed, perfectly matching the walls around them, even the scarf he held. Petros took a step forward, looking at their now nearly invisible forms in awe.

“See you around, kid,” Plagg said with a cackle, and together they flew out the window.

They were on their way, and soon Attlantis would be at peace.

* * *

Attlantis had not wasted a single moment of his and Plagg’s journey, telling the kwami of every single thing Calix and his previous holders had done while in possession of his Miraculous. Unlike some of his previous words to his fellow kwami these were not lies, but he carefully chose to leave out details, painting his story so that it would suit his purposes.

“Your Guardian should have checked up on your island,” Plagg muttered.

“Perhaps he agreed with the idea of war?” Attlantis suggested.

The Black Cat shivered at the thought. “No matter what he believes, he knows that Miraculouses shouldn’t be used that way. I think this is a much bigger issue than you realize, Attlantis. As soon as we destroy this fleet we need to prepare.”

Attlantis smiled softly. He had said the right thing, if even the lax Destruction was this concerned. His gaze shifted to Plagg, whose eyes were lit with determination. He brushed his tentacle against his fur ever so slightly, releasing the tiniest amount of his power into the Black Cat– who didn't even blink.

But with each soft touch Attlantis was slowly securing the kwami’s decision of Destruction, so when the time came there would be no chance for hesitation, no restraint when the Cataclysm was released. Because destroying a mere fleet would not be enough, Attlantis knew that to stop this corruption they would have to go to the very roots.

* * *

“Looks peaceful enough,” Plagg muttered as they approached Atlantis.

“Wait until you see the weaponry they’ve stockpiled,” Attlantis said simply. “Perhaps we should begin there, and not the fleet. No ships means they can’t sail, but no weapons means that they cannot harm anyone.”

Besides, Plagg seeing a lack of war vessels in the harbor would only raise his suspicions.

Plagg’s eyes gleamed. “Take me there.”

Destruction had truly grown to love the many city-states and all the lands in between, Attlantis could see that. He wondered if Plagg would feel the same despair he had when his people eventually caved to corruption, or would the Black Cat be blinded by the fondness he held now? They would have to see in time.

Attlantis led him to the small shack Calix called home. Plagg looked at the small, pitiful building, then back at the Octopus almost doubtfully, but when he saw the burning rage in the normally calm kwami’s eyes he saw no reason not to believe him. He circled the small shack, whose windows were still covered from when Calix hid his offerings. He wondered if his former holder was still in there now, clinging to the last of the treasures he had taken before he had left.

“Doesn’t look like much,” Plagg commented.

“It’s an entrance to an underground system,” Attlantis replied. “You will want to project your powers to below the surface, destroy it all before they have a chance to scavenge a single arrow.”

Plagg gently placed a paw on the roof of the shack, and Attantlis felt himself growing restless. The Black Cat was hesitating, or perhaps calculating just how much of his Destruction to unleash. It didn’t matter though, because his decision had been cemented long before they had reached this little shack.

“Cataclysm,” he muttered, clearly intending to release the smallest amount he could– but as the words slipped through his lips Attlantis lashed out at him, tentacles pulsing with light as he released his own energy into the Black Cat.

 _"Course,"_ Attlantis hissed, and Plagg let out a gasp, but his Choice was made final in that moment, and the Cataclysm surged up into a blinding flare of black light. 

Attlantis smiled faintly as the shack crumbled to ash, the surrounding plants withering upon contact– the fully powered-Cataclysm rippling out at the surrounding land. Cracks appeared in the earth, the crevices crumbling and widening as the entire land shook from the growing Destruction.

“What did you do?” Plagg shouted, whipping around to face Attlantis with wide eyes.

“Just... confirmed your choice to use your powers,” Attlantis said softly as he released Plagg, barely heard over the rupturing from the island. “Making sure that you didn’t hold back.”

Another loud rumble shook the island, the spreading darkness creeping across the island. Plagg tried to race ahead of it. “We need to warn the humans!” He cried. “That was too much force, Attlantis, you know my powers are unpredictable– this whole place is going to crumble!”

“Exactly,” Attlantis said, unmoving, and Plagg froze. “Perhaps there was no fleet or forming army, but with the path they were on I am sure it would have only been a matter of time.”

The Black Cat looked back at him, mouth open, searching for words he did not know. The horror in his eyes was raw, and it made the Octopus hum in amusement. Attlantis simply rose higher into the air, watching as earth began to crumble into the sea, the destruction webbing out across the island. Buildings fell in its wake, and the sounds of screams were heard between the rumbles and the quakings.

Plagg rushed down towards the island, in what Attlantis knew was a vain attempt to save those who remained. He remained up in the sky, wrapping his scarf around him as the sun slowly rose in the east– the grand island of Atlantis withering away into nothing. The sea churned, waves crashing as chunks of earth and rocks crashed into it, the cacophony of Destruction sounding like a symphony to his ears.

Attlantis closed his eyes as the last of the island sank into the ocean, a smile on his face.

“You _lied_ to me?” Plagg cried, and the kwami opened a purple eye to find that the Black Cat had returned. He was trembling, the hurt in his gaze clear. “How... how could you do that? _Why_ would you do that?”

“You would not have chosen to help me otherwise,” Attlantis said simply. “And I did not possess the power to do it for myself.”

“They’re _dead_ Attlantis!” Destruction screamed. “Every human on this island is dead because of you– you killed them!”

“No, _you_ killed them,” Attlantis said, and Plagg flinched back as if he had been hit. “It was not all lies I told you, Plagg, the deeds of my past holders did happen– and after what Calix had done I knew there was no hope left for the humans here.” He stared down at the ocean below them. “I could not just leave and let this corruption continue.”

“That was not your choice to make,” Plagg hissed.

Attlantis tilted his head. “How is it any different than when you and Shii culled the dinosaurs? And the creatures that roamed this earth before them?”

Plagg looked at a loss for words, and Attlantis turned away. This was not the first time they had rid Earth of life they had deemed unfit, so he saw no reason why now should be any different. He drifted forward, looking down at the restless sea, knowing that it wouldn’t be the two of them alone here for long. The humans may have not survived, but for kwamis death was not a reality they would live.

Skyy was the first to surface, the Griffin bursting up from the waves, her Miraculous clutched in her paws. Her eyes were sharp as she looked about, zipping up towards the frozen Plagg, wings flaring.

“What have you done?!” She snarled.

Haabu, Orikko, and Faae were the next ones to surface, the Rattlesnake’s, Rooster’s and Spider’s expression more akin to Plagg’s as they looked down at where their home had once been– which was nothing more than another part of the endless expanse of ocean. Attlantis was glad to see that each had been able to lay claim to their Miraculouses, their fate no longer bound to the humans they had been serving.

“Did you think you had a right, Destruction?” Skyy screeched. “Where is your other half? Bring Creation here to restore what you have done!”

“There will be no undoing what has taken place,” Attlantis said, slowly drifting up towards them. “Plagg’s Cataclysm was done under my influence– his Choice is final.”

Skyy turned towards him. “You... you  _ helped _ with this? Our island? Our land? Our people?!”

Attlantis smiled softly, aware of the other three kwamis that drifted up behind him, trying to make sense of what had just taken place. “This was entirely my Choice, Skyy. I guided Destruction here under false promises.”

“Our holders... they’re... dead.” Orikko whispered.

“One trick all humans have in common,” Attlantis agreed. “Surely you saw the paths they were going down were not good ones. Had we let this continue...” He shook his head. “This was necessary.”

Faae drew close to Attlantis. “Perhaps their choices were not wise, but their fate was not meant to be of our choosing.”

Haabu shook her rattle. “Did you know this was going to happen, Faae?”

The Spider locked eyes with Attlantis. “Attlantis has chosen his path, interference would have made no difference in the end.”

“You murdered my holder!” Skyy screeched, rushing at Attlantis, and he had no time to react– the Griffin slamming into him. Her talons slashed at him, and he lashed out with his tentacles in retaliation, Skyy’s cries drowning out the shouts of their fellow kwamis as they struggled in the air.

Orikko rushed between them, while Haabu’s tail wrapped around Attlantis’ body, trying to pull him back. Faae tried to approach Skyy, but she dove at Attlantis once more with ruffled feathers.

_ “Murderer!” _

**_“Enough!”_ ** Plagg’s voice echoed across the waters, the entire air shaking with the power the Alpha carried. All the kwamis went still in response, the tension palpable. “...Haabu, take his Miraculous.”

“No!” Attlantis cried, whipping about, but the Rattlesnake had already gotten a hold of the scarf. He rushed forward in a chance to reclaim it, but Skyy blocked his path, wings flared open. He glowered at them, knowing he needed to reclaim the scarf– because without it his freedom was nothing. Fellow kwamis couldn’t force him to obey, but as long as they held it they could not stray far. 

“Faae, Haabu,” Plagg said, trembling slightly. “I’m counting on you to make sure that his Miraculous falls into no one else’s hands but your Guardian’s. Tell them exactly what happened– I need to return to Greece and see if Tikki and I can reverse what happened.”

“You know you can’t,” Attantlis said, tentacles curling. “Not under my influence. Not without Vitaa's Life.”

“I’ll go with them,” Skyy said, a growl in her voice. “He shouldn’t be out of the Miracle Box for some time, not when he’s killing humans.”

Attlantis sneered. “Do you think I want to be another pawn for a human? Very well, return me to the Miracle Box– better than serving for a corrupted cause!”

“Orikko, you come with me,” Plagg said softly.

“Of course,” the Rooster said, drifting up towards the Black Cat, who turned his back on the other kwamis. He was shaking slightly, and if it was from anger or sorrow, Attlantis did not know– though he would pity the kwami if he truly felt sorrow for those who had once been here.

Attlantis felt his Miraculous switch paws, Faae carefully taking the scarf into her care. It would be near impossible to reclaim the Miraculous with her keen Foresight. He closed his eyes, but saw no further reason to fight. His mission had been accomplished, and the people of Atlantis could no longer abuse the powers of the Miraculouses. They could lock him away for a time, but he was sure they would come to see that his Choice and been the right one.

* * *

The other kwamis refused to speak to Attlantis once he returned to the realm of the Miracle Box.

He understood their Choice– for they called him a traitor among kwamis. He had lied and tricked an Alpha. His actions had not only slaughtered Miraculous holders, but a whole kingdom as well. But letting a bad branch of humanity continue to grow... it would infect all those who remained. Loss was necessary for the growth of the better parts of humanity. Though how long they would survive– he did not know.

He lingered in the far corners of their pocket dimension, far from where the others gathered. Attlantis took no part in celebrating the kwamis who returned or those who were setting off to a new holder, no care for what human they would end up in the hands of. He was content with the peace he had for a time– but like all creatures he too grew lonely.

Yuume was the kwami of Dreams– and as such he spent more time asleep in the world of dreams than he did awake in the Miracle Box. He did not think the Sheep would be keen to his presence if he were to wake, but the Octopus was content to linger near him when he craved the company of another. He was careful to leave when he saw signs of him awakening, not wanting to disturb him.

Yet the Dreams Yuume roamed in were not always peaceful, and it was only a matter of time before he was awakened from one with Attlantis was near.

It had been a quiet time when the Sheep jerked awake suddenly, a look of horror on his face– no other kwami near them. Yuume’s paws were wrapped closely to him as he looked about, the young kwami seemingly not realizing he was now awake. Attlantis drew back, expecting to see horror on his face if he was seen, but before the Octopus could move away his fellow kwami was rushing at him– and Attlantis froze as Yuume’s paws wrapped around him.

“Are... Are you alright?” Attlantis asked in surprise– and he wasn't sure how long it had been since he had spoken to another. 

Yuume shook. “They weren’t always like this. Why must they be like this?”

He patted Yuume’s back uncertainly. “What happened?”

“Dreams used to be pleasant,” he muttered softly, still pressing into his embrace. “But very few are now– what has become of humanity?”

The Octopus blinked, before bringing him in a bit closer. “Indeed.” He said quietly. “What has become of humanity?”

**Author's Note:**

> [Attlantis' bio and art (ao3)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25883662/chapters/63501919)
> 
> [Learn more about my OC kwamis on tumblr! (MyMiracleBox)](https://mymiraclebox.tumblr.com/)
> 
> This story is both the fall of Atlantis, and the fall of Attlantis.


End file.
